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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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